


The Easiest Choice

by this_is_madness



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 17:40:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4531089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/this_is_madness/pseuds/this_is_madness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post Season 10 finale, Sam and Dean begin the long battle with the Darkness along side Gabriel, Castiel, and God (who finally decides to lend his helping hand). Dean and Castiel finally figure out they're in love with each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Easiest Choice

“You killed _Death_? You let out the _Darkness_? God damnit, boys!” a somewhat squeaky male voice came from the back seat of the Impala. It was nearly pitch black due to the Darkness that surrounded the car, sounding like a mix of swarming bees and furious spirits.  


  
“What the hell?” Sam and Dean said together, both fumbling for some sort of light source. Dean won, switching on a flash light from the glove compartment as Sam fought with his phone. Dean shined the light into the backseat and was surprised into momentary silence when the light oddly enough illuminated Chuck, the presumed dead profit.  


  
All was silent for a moment as the brothers stared at Chuck. The tension was palpable.  


  
“What the hell, Chuck?” Sam half groaned gruffly. “We thought you were dead.”  


  
“How the hell did you get in here?” Dean inquired, equally gruff. Chuck smiled at the both of them.  


  
“Well, here’s the thing, boys,” Chuck said, and then paused. “You know, let’s change locations.”  


  
“Well, sure, Chuck,” Sam scoffed. “As soon as we can see.”  


  
Chuck smiled at Sam and Dean, and in a blink, Sam and Dean were thrown against their seats with the force that only ‘flying’ with an angel can achieve. Once stationary on a road that was not smothered in Darkness, they both looked at each other.  


  
“Chuck…” Sam began hesitantly. “Are you an angel?”  


  
Chuck chuckled. “Think bigger.”  


  
Dean’s eyes widened, but Sam continued the inquiry with somewhat disbelieving thoroughness.  


  
“An…archangel?” Sam grimaced.  


  
“Closer, but bigger still,” Chuck replied and now Dean was glaring.  


  
“God damnit, Chuck,” he yelled. “Are you fucking God?”  


  
Chuck pierced his lips at Dean’s tone, and slowly nodded.  


  
“You have got to be fucking kidding me, you son of a bitch,” Dean growled but there was a look in Chuck’s eyes that warned against further disrespect.  


  
“Dean,” Sam warned as well, before looking to Chuck with a sort of angry awe. “You’re God.”  


  
“I’m God,” Chuck nodded.  


  
“Were you always God? The entire time we knew you? The entire time Cas was looking for you?” Dean asked and everyone in the now well lit car could hear the barely restrained fury in his voice.  


  
“No,” Chuck replied. “Only recently.”  


  
“What counts as recent to you?” Sam asked. Chuck thought he was acting relatively calm, considering his brother’s state of anger that could rival even the Dark rage of the Mark. Now that the Mark was off Dean’s arm, he felt remarkably better—calmer, sadder. His forearm ached where it had been, but until just moments before, Dean had felt the weight of the anger gone. Now he wished he had it still, so he would have the strength to rip God’s fucking head off. The nerve of this guy. The nerve he had to pop into the back of Dean’s car and act as if he hadn’t ignored Cas, as if he hadn’t ignored Dean’s own pleas. Ignored the end of the goddamn world. Leviathon. Hell. Purgatory. Abbadon. There was a lot of shit that he had willfully turned a blind eye to.  


  
“Well, shortly before Kevin…and briefly on the day of the Fight between Lucifer and Michael,” Chuck explained slowly to the boys and Dean tensed further than he already was, if possible. Sam frowned deeply. Before either brother could speak, Chuck continued. “The tablets had been discovered, the Leviathon loose; then there was that whole to-do with Metatron and the angels. I was going to step in, but it seems that you boys figured it out. You always do.”  


  
Dean was trembling with anger and Sam glared too. Before Chuck could continue, though, Dean jumped from the car. They were on a desolate road not five miles from the warehouse where Cas, Rowena, and Crowley had exacted the spell. There was a small red barn shortly off the road and Dean stomped over to it. Sam and Chuck waited and watched from the car until Dean began punching it, with impressive force. Sam jumped out first and then Chuck, slowly after.  


  
“Dean!” Sam yelled, running to his brother and stepping in between Dean and the wall. “Stop!”  


  
Dean seethed at Sam. “Well, I just killed Death, so I feel like it wouldn’t better my case if I punched God.”  


  
Sam put both of his hands on his older brother’s shoulders. “Dean,” he said, trying for a level tone. “Calm the hell down.”  


  
“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down, Sammy,” Dean growled and pushed him behind himself as Chuck approached. “You were going to step in? Are you fucking kidding me, you son of a bitch? People died. Good people. People we loved. Kevin. Charlie.”  


  
To Dean’s great dismay, his voice broke on the last one, the name of his beloved Charlie. The sister he hadn’t known he needed, and loved all the same. With the Mark, her death spurred a rage that he could not handle, a rage that took over his very being. But he hadn’t grieved, not really. Not yet. Now he could feel the grief, overwhelming and more painful than the anger that had burned his veins. He clenched his jaw as hard as he could manage and spoke through his teeth.  


  
“I went to purgatory, you dick,” he intoned. “We both went to Hell. Hell! I don’t know if you’ve been down there since your little Lucy reigned, but it sucks.”  


  
“You watch your tone, boy,” Chuck warned, and Sam grabbed Dean’s shoulder, but Dean brushed him off. Dean could see the difference between the Chuck they knew and God in Chuck’s body. There was a strength that hadn’t been there before. He was a lot less…squirrely than he had been.  


  
“Don’t tell me what to do,” Dean snarled, taking a step towards Chuck, who glared at him. “Guess what, _buddy_. Probably your only loyal son searched for you. He needed you. And you stayed on the down low, _why_? Because you didn’t want to _weigh in_? You let two lowly humans stop the fucking apocalypse, you let your children fall and die and fight and nearly tear the entire world apart. So, no. You’re not God, capitol G. You may be a god, but you’re certainly not ours anymore. You’ve become just as irrelevant as the Pagan gods we hunt. I’ve killed Death, we’ve saved the world. So guess what that makes you: just another dead beat dad. So, no, God, I will not _watch my tone_.”  


  
“I could squish you, here and now, like an ant,” Chuck said warningly, but, to Dean’s surprise, not as angrily as he expected.  


  
“Do it,” Dean said, and finally unclenched his jaw. He let his head drop a little and raised a hand to his forehead, as if he could rub away the sorrow, the frustration, the anger. It felt as if he had a fever. “Squish me like an ant, I’m done trying to please fathers that just aren't fucking worth the work. I’m done.”  


  
This last bit was murmured and he began to walk away, to the car. He didn’t look at his little brother who had just released potentially the most dangerous, catastrophic, world-ending entity just to save him. He thought of the one other person, other than Sam, still alive in this world that went to so much trouble to save him. He longed to apologize to him, for all he had done wrong. He closed his eyes and silently prayed.  


  
“Dean,” the voice sounded from in front of him, just as he reached the Impala. It was ragged and filled him with a different type of strength. He looked up at the angel who looked back at him both reproachfully and hopefully. Alarmingly, blood dripped from Cas’s eyes and Dean tried to feel concerned, but everything was seemingly mute—everything was mute in comparison to the suddenly all-consuming grief.  


  
“Cas,” Dean breathed. “Your dad popped in to say hello.”  


  
Cas’s eyes widened as he looked behind Dean to Sam and then to Chuck. He took a step forward for a moment but then stopped.  


  
“Is it gone? Did the spell work?” he asked Dean, focusing on the man instead of his father. “Rowena took the book, she put a spell on me to kill Crowley…but then…I heard your prayer, and I was here instead.”  


  
Dean wanted to be angry with Cas too, for helping Sam after he told him not to, for allowing Charlie to die, for releasing the Darkness. But he couldn’t; all he felt when he looked at that angel was guilt and regret and sorrow. Even this news of Rowena didn’t spur as much anger as it should have. It was all a dull ache.  


  
“What? Yes, it worked…Rowena?” Dean said, hanging his head. He resisted the urge to simply drop to his knees and lean against Cas, simply let another deal with the sudden death of the world. “Cas…” his voice broke again and the sorrow was crippling. He couldn’t think of the mess with Rowena, he couldn’t think about the Darkness. He felt nauseous, physically ill with the pain that he hadn’t known the Mark was stifling. “Cas…I am so sorry.”  


  
“It wasn’t you, Dean,” Cas said, putting a comforting hand on Dean’s shoulder. Dean leaned heavily into the hand, so heavily that Cas put his other hand on Dean’s other shoulder to fully support him.  


  
“It may not have been me, but I still did it,” Dean muttered. His entire world was spinning and he could feel tears slipping down his cheeks as he leaned even more into Cas’s strength.  


  
“Dean, are you okay?” Cas asked, his voice suddenly different. He sounded worried. Dean didn’t think he deserved it, didn’t think he deserved anything from Cas. He reached out to reassure Cas, brushed his neck briefly and then he was falling.  


  
“Dean!” Cas said in surprise, catching his friend. But Dean was already down for the count. “Sam, he’s unconscious. He’s feverish.”  


  
Even Sam could hear the slight hysteria in Cas’s voice.  


  
Sam ran over to Dean, taking a little of the weight from Cas’s arms. Chuck walked over quickly too. He paused for a moment when his eyes landed on Cas.  


  
“Castiel,” he said slowly, softly. There was love in his voice but Cas didn’t seem to hear it. “Castiel, my angel, my son.”  


  
“What’s wrong with him?” Cas intoned roughly, glaring at his father. “Why can’t I heal him?”  


  
“His soul has been damaged, along with his physical health,” Chuck replied, unperturbed by Cas’s apparent distaste. “The Mark took a serious tole, not to mention his brief time as a Knight of Hell.”  


  
“Can you help?” Sam asked, panicked.  


  
“Well, yes, but after the speech he just gave me…” Chuck replied. “I don’t know about it, Sammy.”  


  
“Do not call me Sammy,” Sam snapped and Chuck raised his eyebrows. “Only Dean can call me Sammy,” Sam said quietly, holding his brother. There was no way he would lose Dean now; he would make him better, no matter what it took. Just as he had with the Darkness. Though Sam knew that he may have just doomed the entire planet, certainly enough so to apparently warrant God’s help, he couldn’t quite make himself regret the decision. The moment that odd lightning bolt burned the Mark away, Dean was different. There wasn’t the dead coldness in his eyes, there wasn’t the apparent disdain or simple rage. There was sorrow, there was relief. There was Dean. He had saved his brother as he had set out to do, and now he would do so again. If that made him selfish, and he knew it did, he didn’t care.  


  
“You won’t fix him?” Sam asked Chuck and Chuck frowned.  


  
“Hmm,” Chuck replied lightly and Sam felt like punching the wall.  


  
“He’s saved the world more times than you, that’s for sure,” Cas replied immediately, madder than Sam had ever seen him. “And he certainly deserves to be saved.”  


  
“He doesn’t think so,” Chuck replied and Cas had fire in his eyes.  


  
“I’m aware, but that doesn’t make it less true,” Cas spit back and Chuck raised his eyebrows.  


  
“Interesting, Castiel,” Chuck replied. “I can read your thoughts, and I assure you that what I find in your head is mirrored in Dean’s.”  


  
Cas froze as he stared at his father. “What? Speak plain.”  


  
“Oh, you know exactly what I’m talking about,” Chuck replied. “If you wish me to speak plain, here in front of Sam, I certainly will. That is your decision.”  


  
Cas began to shake his head but Sam made a frustrated noise and they both turned to him.  


  
“Oh, please,” Sam rolled his eyes. “I’m not an idiot. What I lack in mind reading capabilities, I make up for in the act of noticing the very obvious. But do you two really think this is the time or place for this particular conversation?”  


  
“What is very obvious?” Cas said, extremely nervous, suddenly. Chuck was surprised, since this was an interesting emotion to witness in an angel. Castiel was certainly unique, that was for sure.  


  
“You two are hot for each other,” Sam said hurriedly. “I get it, it’s cool, I’m supportive; now can we please fix him? Or, at the very least, get him somewhere he can lay down. Can either of you zap us to the bunker?”  


  
Cas was frozen but Chuck nodded and without even blinking, all three of them were in the bunker, which still smelled heavily of gasoline, thankfully unlit. An angel’s blade stuck out of one of the books near the arch and Cas frowned at it. It’s funny, he thought, the parallels in his and Dean’s behavior. He had done the exact same to Dean once, nearly beat him to death. But it was something in the way that Dean didn’t stop him, that actually made him stop. He wondered if it was something of the same with what Dean did.  


  
They carried Dean into his now stark room and threw him down on the bed.  


  
“There are two ways I can heal him,” Chuck said to Sam and Cas. “I can heal his soul, but it will take a considerable amount of time which we don’t really have, considering you idiots unleashed the Darkness.”  


  
“Wow, you don’t sound too keen,” Dean said quietly from his position on the bed, making the other three, even Chuck, jump. He turned his head to the side. He coughed and tiny droplets of blood sprayed across his pillow. Sam dropped onto the bed next to his brother, while Cas simply stared.  


  
“Dean,” he started. “God can save you.”  


  
“Wow,” Dean replied. “That’s very Jehovah Witness of you, Sammy, but you heard him. He doesn’t have time if he’s to clean up our mess.”  


  
“My mess,” Sam murmured and Dean frowned at him.  


  
“You’re not alone in this,” Dean told him, and Sam gave him a small, sad smile.  


  
“God will just have to make time to heal you, Dean,” Cas said bitterly, which made Dean raise his eyebrows tiredly.  


  
“You’re a very bossy bunch,” Chuck intoned. “You didn’t seem this bossy from afar.”  


  
“And you’re a dick who is going to fix my Dean,” Cas said, nearly threatening.  


  
“Your Dean?” Dean inquired and Cas flushed slightly, which was a first anyone had ever seen an angel do.  


  
“Dean. I meant Dean. Just Dean. Fix Dean,” Cas stumbled. “Father, fix him.”  


  
“Look, you haven’t even listened to my second option,” Chuck said slowly, looking down to Dean. “It’s a much better option, but I fear you may fight it.”  


  
Dean’s eyes were fluttering and he forced them open. He felt so tired, so sick.  


  
“I can make you strong, I can make you healthy, but not with the way your soul is now,” Chuck told Dean.  


  
Dean shook his head. “So…what are you saying?”  


  
“I’m saying, I can make you better without your soul,” Chuck began but Sam interrupted.  


  
“No,” his voice was firm and angry. “Been there, done that. Would not recommend.”  


  
“Would you let me finish?” Chuck implored impatiently. “Jesus Christ, so much interrupting.”  


  
“Should you be taking your son’s name in vain?” Dean mused and Chuck groaned.  


  
“This almost isn’t worth it,” he mumbled before taking a deep breath and continuing. “I’d take your soul away for a very short amount of time. Just as long as it takes us to beat the Darkness. We’d hide it somewhere it can recuperate.”  


  
“Hide it where, exactly?” Dean asked, his eyes narrowing.  


  
“You can’t be considering this,” Sam asked angrily. “Dean—“  


  
“Shush, Sammy,” Dean said. “I’m just hearing his proposition. That’s all.”  


  
“We’d hide it in a very safe place, with one of my few friends—at least, one of which you haven’t yet killed,” Chuck said, frowning down at Dean.  


  
“Look, I’m sorry about Death,” Dean said. “But, in all fairness, he was going to kill my brother.”  


  
“So were you,” Chuck replied.  


  
“No, he wasn’t,” Sam said, with surprising certainty. “I didn’t believe he’d do it even while he was beating the shit out of me. I knew he wouldn’t.”  


  
Dean looked at Sam. “I didn’t even know I wasn’t going—“ he had to stop so that he could cough again, another spray of blood brightening his pillow.  


  
“Father, complete your proposal,” Cas commanded which warranted a warning look from Chuck which Cas completely ignored.  


  
“Yes, I would take out your soul…or at least the damaged bits,” Chuck said.  


  
“But Death told me you can’t just hack off the hurt bits of a soul,” Dean said.  


  
“No, Death can’t,” Chuck responded. “But I created souls, so I may be able to work it. We’d send your soul to stay in the Garden, in Heaven. It’s the safest possible place to keep it. The rest of your soul would stay intact, you’d stay yourself, I promise. Nothing like when Sam was walking around without one.”  


  
“I suppose you were going to step in on that one too, until we figured it out?” Dean asked bitterly.  


  
“For your information, you ungrateful little man,” Chuck said, quietly angry. “I was the one who asked Death to meet with you when you so audaciously asked Tessa to retrieve him. He wouldn’t have if not for me, so watch yourself.”  


  
Dean was silent for a long moment before he looked at Chuck. “Thank you,” he said simply and Chuck seemed a little relieved.  


  
“You’re welcome,” he replied. “Now, back to business. Your body could work with some of your soul gone, but not at full capacity. Which is why I would need a favor of you.”  


  
“A favor? God needs a favor?” Dean scoffed and Chuck rolled his eyes.  


  
“Why is it that you were never this cheeky with Death? I’m just as powerful, if not more so; and I don’t know if you’ve read the Old Testament, but I’m not exactly known for being patient and soft-tempered.”  


  
Dean was silent so Chuck continued. “The first time I fought the Darkness, I had an army of archangels on my side. Now, it seems you’ve killed most of them. Michael and Lucifer and best off to stay in the Pit; Castiel scattered Raphael’s molecules across the universe, very violently, I might add. I have only Gabriel left.”  


  
“Gabriel is alive?” Sam asked, a small smile playing across his lips.  


  
“Yes, luckily Lucifer wasn’t as wrathful as I might have guessed and it was relatively easy to pull him back together, as I did with Castiel, the day of the Fight,” Chuck said.  


  
“That was you, then,” Cas said, quietly.  


  
“Of course it was,” Chuck sighed. “Although, I’m sort of sad I did it as I did; it simply instilled in you the confidence to become the New God, as you put it. I’ve saved your life more than any other angel in existence.”  


  
Cas frowned at Chuck, and was silent, at a loss for words.  


  
“You learned your lesson,” Chuck said, patting Cas’s shoulder, which made Cas’s eyes widen. “Anyway, my point is, I need archangels. Obviously, I have the power to make archangels, but the rule is, I need consent.”  


  
“Don’t you make the rules?” Dean murmured, his voice become scratchier and quieter.  


  
“Yes, and if I don’t abide by them, what will the world come to?” Chuck asked and Dean managed to vaguely chuckle.  


  
“It would probably keep turning, padre,” Dean said and Chuck rolled his eyes.  


  
“Nevertheless,” Chuck said. “I insist I get your consent.”  


  
“Consent for what?” Dean frowned.  


  
“That’s what I’ve been trying to get to, if you would stop interrupting,” Chuck said, making Dean grimace. “What I’m trying to say, is, I can turn you into an archangel, Dean. Castiel too. Just until our fight is over, and then we can retrieve your soul and you’ll be human once more.”  


  
“Sounds too easy,” Dean said.  


  
“Well, I am God, after all,” Chuck reminded. “And both the process of turning you into an archangel and taking your Grace away afterwards will be incredibly painful.”  


  
“And what am I supposed to do?” Sam asked. “You all get archangel-ified and I’m left here to sit on my thumbs?”  


  
“That might be best,” Dean suggested and Chuck nodded.  


  
“Yes, I think you’ve done quite enough,” Chuck said bitterly.  


  
“That’s not what I meant,” Dean frowned at Chuck. “I mean, it’d be best. This is finally a war you don’t have to be a part of.”  


  
“I’m already a part of it,” Sam said angrily. “What is it? Do you think I’m not strong enough?”  


  
Dean sighed. “No, Sammy, I don’t want you to need to be strong enough. I know you are, but why can’t, just once, one of us just sit on the sidelines and not put the weight of the world on our shoulders?”  


  
“I just doomed the world—again. Dean, I need to fix what I can,” Sam said. “Chuck—er, God? Father?”  


  
“Chuck seems to be easiest,” Chuck said. “For now.”  


  
“If you can make me into an archangel too, I can right my wrong,” Sam suggested. “I’ll be another soldier.”  


  
“It would be much harder to make you into one,” Chuck told Sam. “There is a reason why I made angels without souls. Castiel is one to know this: an angel with the power of a soul…well, it’s a volatile mix. It’s unstable and extremely hard to contain. And that’s just one. It’s no wonder Castiel was burned out. It would be extremely difficult to pull off.”  


  
“But could you do it?” Sam pressed.  


  
“Sam, it’s not just an angel with a soul, it’s also your soul. I mean, you’re allowed into heaven because I allow it—but, like it or not, your soul is damaged too, Sam. And not just from its time in the Pit; you drank demon blood. You broke the last seal. I grant you, you righted your wrongs then as well, but Dean’s soul is different. He was pure enough to kill the Whore of Babylon, he was a true servant of heaven.”  


  
“He was a Knight of Hell and he broke the first seal,” Sam reminded and Dean couldn’t make himself join this argument. He was light headed and felt as if he were going to pass out again soon. Cas was watching him like a hawk but didn’t want to interrupt Sam and his father’s debate either.  


  
“Sam…” Dean tried, but it was too much. He didn’t dare say anything else, for fear of unconsciousness.  


  
“But could you do it?” Sam asked again and Chuck slowly nodded.  


  
“Yes, fine, I could do it,” Chuck said. “I guess you’ll all just be archangels. The more the merrier.”  


  
“You can guarantee that they’ll be put back, exactly as they are?” Cas asked.  


  
“Yes, if they want to go back, that is,” Chuck said.  


  
“We will,” Sam assured.  


  
Dean nodded.  


  
“Alright,” Chuck nodded. “I have all of your consent?”  


  
They all nodded.  


  
“Okay,” Chuck told them all. “This will hurt. Especially for you, Dean.”  


  
*  


  
The pain was crippling, for all of them, but especially for Dean, as Chuck had warned. First, Chuck had to reach into Dean’s soul and extract the messy bits that were raw from the Mark. It was a long, arduous process that left him unconscious and still in horrible pain. After he had done so, he delivered them to the Garden, under Joshua’s capable security. 

  
Next, he turned all three into archangels. It wasn’t easy for Chuck; he had to infuse three beings with Grace, that of which was extremely powerful and therefore extremely difficult to manipulate, even for him. Eventually, he managed it though and he watched as his three to-be-archangels writhed under the pain of the powerful Grace. Castiel was the first to recover, as Chuck had imagined. This was not the first time he took power unto himself that was more than he had been given in the beginning. Next was Sam, though he had a very difficult time controlling it. Finally, a surprising and slightly impressive mere hours after the other two, was Dean, who finally woke with a burst of energy so powerful, had they still been in the bunker, it probably would’ve been leveled. Luckily, Chuck had the foresight to move them to a relatively barren part of the Nevada desert, for this particular transformation.  


  
It was Cas that finally woke Dean from his troubled transformation.  


  
Dean was in blinding pain, everything was white hot and loud and rough. It was almost as bad as Hell, he found himself comparing the two. Somewhere far too close, he heard his name and it was like a firecracker going off in his brain.  


  
“Dean,” it spoke and he cringed, writhed in the pain of an explosion of feelings, and sounds, and colors. Moments later, quieter and seemingly actually in his head, he heard it again, softly,  


  
“Dean,” it whispered and he recognized, vaguely, the voice. His angel, his Castiel. No, not his. Just Castiel. Cas. Castiel. He reached for the meaning behind the name and with the reach, he managed to pry open his eyes. It was amazing, he couldn’t help but notice, but painful. So painful. He saw all of the universe right underneath what he directly saw on the plane of existence. Nevada. The word seemed foreign and strange among the truly foreign and strange things he saw. He looked around, unable to close his eyes to what he saw even though it hurt like hell.  


  
“Dean,” Cas’s voice came again and he forced himself to focus specifically on the Nevada plane of existence where Cas stood in front of his kneeling body.  
Cas, he thought and Cas smiled.  


  
Dean, Cas thought back and Dean was surprised. He saw what Cas’s true form was—so beautiful and alien and white hot like everything else he saw. He saw himself kneeling there, he saw what he looked like—just as white hot and just as strange. He saw his large heavy wings, on a different plane of existence, just shadows in the Nevada desert. He felt the weight of them, he felt the strength of them. He saw through Cas’s eyes, Sammy standing behind him, an angel. Powerful, full, brighter than Cas and a little brighter than Dean too, the extra soul offering flame to his fire. It was all so much and behind Sam, he saw two more figures: Gabriel, smirking like always and a bluer white than the three new archangels. Behind Gabriel stood Chuck—or, rather, God. He was mesmerizing, changing forms of light and solid and matter that he couldn’t even think to name. He was color and absence of color and multiple planes of existence all by himself.  


  
Dean slowly became accustomed to all the noise, everything he could look at, and he could feel the thoughts of the others, even Chuck. He could block them out and focus in on them, but only sometimes. He caught onto the fact that Gabriel and Chuck were blocking him from delving into their minds, and so was Cas, just a little bit. He looked at Cas and could feel the probing of his mind, which he immediately pushed out instinctively, making Cas frown deeply the moment he did so.  


  
He could sense the questioning in Cas’s face and unblocked all but one thought, hoping perhaps Cas had not seen it. They stared at each other for a long moment before Dean stood and turned.  


  
“Well,” Gabriel said. “You know, I die and suddenly God’ll make any old yahoo into archangels.”  


  
Dean couldn’t tell if he was smiling or not, it felt too strange to do so.  


  
“Wow,” Gabriel went on. “Tough crowd.”  


  
This made Dean smirk, which he did instinctively. He could feel the human part of himself, hidden underneath the Grace. He focused on that and suddenly, he felt almost normal in his skin. He shook his head and wings and arms a bit, relaxing into the motion.  


  
“Well, I guess Daddy sought to replace you,” Dean replied, making Sam flinch a little and stare. He obviously was still working through everything. The extra bit of soul probably didn’t help, either.  


  
“Daddy didn’t seek to replace me,” Gabriel scoffed. “I’m irreplaceable. Daddy even loved me enough to bring me back. I’d say I’m probably the favorite. Jealous, boys?”  


  
Dean smirked further at Gabriel. “Well, Gabe, I’d say he brought Cas back far more times than you, so really, whose the favorite?”  


  
Gabriel smirk disappeared. “Shut up, Winchester.”  


  
“Make me, Gabe,” Dean taunted and Gabriel rolled his eyes.  


  
“How is it that you’re an angel and still a dick?” Gabriel asked. “Oh, wait. I think that’s part of the job description.”  


  
Dean chuckled. “Got that right.”  


  
“You certainly adapt quickly, Dean,” Chuck commented. “Your brother is still having difficulties.”  


  
“Well, that’s Dean for you,” Cas assured Chuck and Dean glanced at him before slowly approaching his brother.  


  
“Sammy,” he said quietly and Sam looked at him slowly.  


  
“Dean, everything hurts to look at,” Sam commented calmly and Dean chuckled.  


  
“Tell me about it,” he replied. “You need to focus.”  


  
“How?” Sam asked slowly trying very hard, Dean could tell, to make out which plane Dean wanted him to focus on. He frowned for a moment and then punched Sam in the arm.  


  
“Ow!” Sam said, immediately reaching for his arm.  


  
“There, Sam, right there,” Dean said, grabbing Sam’s shoulders. “Do you feel the human response, the human part?”  


  
Sam’s brow scrunched as he tried to focus.  


  
“Come on, Sammy,” Dean said. “Just focus on that, focus on my hand. You can feel it.” Dean slapped Sam’s shoulders and Sam blinked. “This is where we are, you can feel it. Just try to focus on only this.”  


  
It took Sam a couple more minutes to focus but eventually Dean could see through Sam’s eyes that he saw Dean. In Nevada.  


  
“Nevada,” Sam said slowly and Dean slapped him on the arm.  


  
“That’s right, Sammy,” Dean smiled at him briefly before turning to Gabriel and Chuck.  


  
“There we go, we’re all here,” Dean said but then was distracted for a moment by a warm feeling that was not his own. He turned to look at Cas, who he could feel the admiration rolling from. Cas seemed surprised.  


  
You’re good at this, Cas thought and Dean nodded.  


  
God, it’s like you made it seem hard, Dean joked and managed a wink at Cas.  


  
“You two are going to make me barf,” Gabriel commented, making Dean turn around.  


  
“Let’s get this show on the road, then,” Dean said, and was immediately distracted again. “Where’s Baby?”  


  
“The Impala is in the garage at the bunker, I assure you,” Chuck told him and Dean relaxed.  


  
Oh, thank God, he thought.  


  
“You’re welcome,” Chuck replied and Dean frowned at him, but didn’t think it warranted a comment.  


  
Dean had to focus very hard on his humanity to stay on the Nevada plane of existence and he had to take a moment then to remind himself. He searched his old self and rediscovered, quite quickly, the sadness. It was instantaneous, the change it made in him. He was able to grip at it and it brought him back immediately. It anchored him, with a weight that tore at his crippled soul.  


  
“Well, there goes happy Dean,” Gabriel murmured, a slight frown pulling down his features, that was mirrored in Chuck’s face.  


  
“Charlie,” Dean murmured and he could feel Sam’s focus anchor as well. “Can you bring her back, Chuck?”  


  
Chuck was silent for a long moment before he slowly nodded. “I could, but you should know. She’s at rest. She’s happy where she is. You can see her, quickly, if you like. Offer it up for her, to bring her down from heaven to fight a battle she helped implement.”  


  
“Would you make her into an angel like us?” Sam asked and Chuck sighed heavily.  


  
“I could, yes,” Chuck said. “But only if she so wishes.”  


  
“We can see her, you said?” Dean asked and Chuck nodded.  


  
“Just think Charlie, beat your wings, and you’ll be there,” he instructed and before he could even finish, Dean was there, in the heaven equivalent to what must’ve been Charlie’s childhood home. She sat cross legged on the floor in the clothes she had died in, looking in wonder at two adults who must’ve been her parents. They all were smiling at the huge Christmas tree in the corner by a frosted window. She didn’t seem to notice he had arrived and he simply stood and looked at her for a long moment before he walked forward a few steps and said in a scratchy voice,  


  
“Charlie.”  


  
Charlie whipped around and her eyes filled with tears, while her parents carried on like a movie.  


  
“No,” she said, standing and staring at him. “No, you can’t be here. If you’re here, than you’re de…dead.”  


  
Tears spilled from her eyes and Dean matched hers immediately, nearly to his embarrassment.  


  
“No, Charlie,” he told her walking over to her and enveloping her in a hug. Dean didn’t hug people all that often, but he hugged her close for a long time before pulling back and looking at her. “I’m not dead, Charlie. But I am sorry. I’m so sorry, kiddo. You deserved so much more than what we offered you. You were happy, we brought you back in. We got you killed. I’m so sorry.”  


  
“Oh, Dean,” she said quietly, putting a hand to his cheek. “No. No you didn’t. I knew what I was doing when I died. I did it for you, and I would do it again.”  


  
Dean frowned at her. “I don’t deserve nor will I ever deserve your dying for me, Charlie. You shouldn’t have died for me. You shouldn’t have died at all.”  


  
“Shut up, you idiot,” she said, sniffling. “You don’t get to tell me what is worth dying for.”  


  
Behind them, they heard a ruffle of feathers and Dean turned to see Cas and Sam behind them.  


  
Charlie walked over to them and hugged them each.  


  
“Charlie,” Cas said slowly and lowly. “I’m so sorry.”  


  
“I’m so…sorry,” Sam began too, his throat thick, but Charlie rolled her eyes and shook her head.  


  
“All of you stop, right now,” she told them. “None of you got me killed; I knew I was going to die the moment that Styne guy knocked on my door. I accepted it and did what I know is right. Clearly it worked if you’re all up here.”  


  
“Yes, it worked,” Cas said. “But there were…complications.”  


  
“Oh? Were the complications due to those sons of bitches that killed me? Because I sure hope you had to get them out of the way,” she said bitterly; Cas and Sam both looked at Dean, who looked away from all of them. “Oh, no,” Charlie said. “Oh, that’s not a good silence at all. What happened?”  


  
Charlie looked at Dean who slowly looked at her. “Well, I certainly got revenge.”  


  
“He wasn’t in a good place, with the Mark and all, after we burned you, Charlie,” Sam said. “He got…angry.”  


  
“What happened?” she was quiet and neither Sam nor Cas said anything so she looked to Dean. It was silent for a long while before he finally spoke.  


  
“I killed them,” he said simply and she frowned.  


  
“You mean, the guy who killed me?” she asked.  


  
“I mean…the entire family,” he replied. “There are no more Styne’s left.”  


  
“You wiped out an entire family,” Charlie said very softly. Dean nodded and closed his eyes for a long moment.  


  
“Whoa,” Charlie intoned again and Dean couldn’t help but feel the guilt. Not of killing the Styne’s but just the one; the kid that Cas had defended. Of course Cas was right. The kid was innocent—as innocent as anyone, at least.  


  
“I killed an innocent boy, Charlie,” he held his head down and his eyes burned. “He was a Styne, but he wasn’t evil. He was just a kid.”  


  
“Oh, Dean…” Charlie took a step back into his arms.  


  
“I beat Cas…I almost killed him…I almost killed Sammy…I did kill Death…” Dean rested his chin on her shoulder but she pulled back at that last part.  


  
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she said, both hands on his shoulders. “You killed Death? Like, capital D, big boss Death?”  


  
Dean nodded. She looked back at Sam and Cas. “Was this the complication?”  


  
“No,” Cas told her while Sam said, “One of them.”  


  
Charlie turned back to Dean. “How did you kill Death?”  


  
“With his scythe,” Dean said and she frowned.  


  
“How did you get his scythe?”  


  
“I summoned him, junk food awaiting, and we made a plan,” Dean tried to explain. “But for the plan to work, I had to kill Sam. If I didn’t kill Sam, Death would’ve. So I killed Death.”  


  
“Did you say junk food?” Charlie asked.  


  
“Death really likes junk food,” Sam supplied. “Fast food, deep fried anything.”  


  
Charlie blinked at him. “You guys are close enough with Death to know his favorite munchies?”  


  
“I’m not, but Dean has had a few exchanges; I’ve only had a real conversation with the guy once, and he was reaping me,” Sam told her.  


  
“How many times have you talked with him?” Charlie asked Dean. He shrugged.  


  
“A few,” Dean admitted. “He really liked the pickle fries I got him one time.”  


  
Charlie shook her head. “I can’t even deal with that info right now. Tell me about the complications.”  


  
“Well, before God created Earth, there was Darkness,” Cas began.  


  
“Darkness, capital D,” Dean inserted.  


  
“God fought it with his archangels, and it nearly won on many occasions,” Cas continued. “But then he took the Darkness and put its power into a seal, a key that locked the Darkness away, which he entrusted to his closest soldier, Lucifer. But the Darkness showed itself to be a curse which corrupted even the most devout. Thus, Lucifer rebelled and was cast from Heaven, where he then passed on the Mark to Cain, and from Cain to Dean. When we broke the curse, the Darkness was released. God needs our help to fight it again.”  


  
“But we’re only human,” Charlie murmured in astonishment.  


  
“Well, not exactly anymore,” Sam said. “Dean, show her.”  


  
Dean took a step back from her and pulled his wings out. To her, whom could only see but what humans can see, she saw the shadows that they made, huge and black. But it was enough.  


  
“God made us into archangels to fight the Darkness,” Dean explained, pulling them back in.  


  
“So, let me get this straight. You killed Death, found God, who made you into angels, and now you’re off to fight an evil bigger than Lucifer himself?” Charlie gaped at them.  


  
“Well, that’s also why we’re here,” Sam said. “The more the merrier, and all that.”  


  
“I came here because I needed to see you, Charlie,” Dean corrected. “Know that your fight can be over, if you want. You can stay here in heaven. You’ve done enough, given enough. You don’t need to fight anymore, not for us.”  


  
“What are you talking about, Dean?” Charlie asked hesitantly.  


  
“God has offered to make you an archangel, if you fight with us,” Cas explained and Charlie gaped.  


  
“Me? An angel?” she whispered. “How the hell could I say no to that?”  


  
“Easily,” Dean told her. “It’s a simple word. You could say it and stay here, safe. You’d be safe.”  


  
“Wouldn’t I just come back here once we win?” she asked. “I mean, if I die in battle, wouldn’t I just come back here anyway.”  


  
“Well…no,” Cas said. “It’s extremely hard to save an angel, because once their grace is released back into the universe, it dispersed everywhere, over the entirety to ensure a balanced spread of energy. For the energy, the power, to be called back, it must be done quickly, so it hasn’t traveled far. When I was killed by Lucifer, God brought me back relatively quickly, when my Grace had not traveled too far. However, when I blasted Raphael, I was using the force of more than a million souls to propel his grace, so God did not have time to reclaim them into Raphael’s form. The Darkness…it’ll be working with a force far greater than the souls I took from Purgatory. If you die by its hand, you will most certainly die—and stay scattered across the universe, most likely soul and all.”  


  
Charlie opened her mouth but Dean jumped in first.  


  
“Please, Charlie,” he begged. “Please…I can’t see you die. Not again. Not because of us again. You’re family. Please.”  


  
“Dean…” she put a hand on his cheek. “I helped start this mess; in fact, arguably, it’s on me for breaking that stupid code anyway. I need to help.”  


  
“You could die,” Dean pleaded. “Like, really dead. Dead, for good. No heaven, no hell, no Purgatory; nothingness. Just dead.”  


  
“Could, is the operative word, Dean,” she said gently. “I could die. But I’m a warrior now, have been since Oz. I could be valuable. I really could.”  


  
He took a step back, away from her hand and he was lost for a moment in everything again. This was a worry too big to be encompassed on one plane.  


  
“Why…why does he look…misty?” he heard Charlie vaguely.  


  
“He’s having trouble focusing again,” Cas replied, and his voice brought Dean down a little, but not completely. “Before, his grief anchored him, but now…it might be too much, too soon.”  


  
Dean’s head swirled with colors that seemed to be more painful than actual physical pain. He could hear the colors scream, he could see the universe and couldn’t help but think that’s where his Charlie will end up. Scattered. Worse than dead. Just gone.  


  
“Dean,” it was Cas’s voice again, but it was his hand firmly pressed to the side of his shoulder that anchored him once more. He blinked and saw Cas in front of him, strangely close. He felt for an instance the urge to step back, but instead he stood still looking at this plane’s blue eyes. He took a deep breath, and could feel Cas’s emotions. A mix of worry, of fear…the smallest twinge of hope…and something that felt familiar but he couldn’t quite place. What is that, he wondered in the back of his mind. Immediately, Cas shut him out, having heard the rogue thought. The feelings snapped back into the angel’s head and Cas dropped his hand, taking a step back. Dean felt strangely hurt. A little broken.  


  
“Charlie, if you decide to fight with us, we will make sure you get back here,” Sam intoned suddenly and Dean was snapped fully back into the momentum of the situation.  


  
Dean looked to Charlie who stood where she had been seconds before, staring at him.  


  
“Dean…” she murmured softly and he walked over to her, hugging her again.  


  
He shook his head, not trying to fight the twinge of anger or the sadness. “Yeah, I get it.”  


  
She nodded into his chest, and when the pulled apart, Chuck was standing behind her.  


  
“Hello,” he spoke and Charlie whipped around.  


  
“Jesus!” she exclaimed.  


  
“Nope, his dad,” Chuck replied, with a self satisfied smirk. “I’ve been hoping I’d be able to say that.”  


  
“Was that a…dad joke?” Sam said slowly, softly. “Did…did the ultimate dad just make the ultimate dad joke?”  


  
“That was like a dad joke cubed, man,” Charlie agreed and Chuck looked pleased with their appreciation. “Dad joke told by the ultimate dad about being a dad.”  


  
“Yes, it’s surely a holy occasion, but c’mon guys,” Dean intoned, rolling his eyes. “Let’s move on.”  


  
“Charlie, I’m here to make you an archangel,” Chuck told her, and she nodded.  


  
“Yeah, my friends gave me the whole speech, I’m ready to go,” she told him and Dean saw immediately that Chuck took that a little too seriously. He put his hand on her head, palm against forehead without another word. It was all brightness again and Dean felt like puking with Charlie’s instant screams. She would be as bright as Sam, he knew, with her entire soul intact.  


  
This may take a few moments, God spoke into their minds. Go to Gabriel and follow his direction. With a snap of his fingers, Sam, Cas, and Dean were all back to the bunker where Gabriel sat.  


  
“Looks like I’m Second in Command, now,” Gabriel boasted, with his ever present smirk. He had a candy bar in one of his hands and he munched it self-righteously.  


  
“Oh, that’s just swell,” Dean muttered. “The Trickster is our boss.”  


  
“Oh, Dean-o, I was always your boss,” he looked at Dean with a sort of malicious intent that strangely surprised Dean, but also spurred him to take a step forward.  


  
“Oh, really?” Dean’s voice was low, causing both Cas and Sam to tense behind him. “So…it was on your orders that we caught you in holy fire after that whole TV ordeal? Or you hid in the back of my car like a coward hiding from older brother?”  


  
Gabriel’s smirk melted off his face. “A coward who saved your ungrateful ass, and was killed for it.”  


  
Dean could see the interactions of Gabriel’s thoughts and was confused when they suddenly turned friendly once more.  


  
I’m going to get whiplash, he thought to himself and then immediately looked around at the angels around him to see if any heard him. None seemed to, and he took that as a good sign. There were some thoughts that he was sure he wouldn’t want anyone to see.  


  
“Alright, let’s get to business,” Gabriel said. “Now, we have two loose ends that we need to tie up while Daddy angel-fies the red-headed Hobbit lover up above: Rowena and Metatron. Now, Rowena has the Book of the Damned and the accompanying codex, which is a big no-no. That could cause a lot of problems in the future. And Metatron has the Demon Tablet, and, to be honest, he’s just generally pissed off a few of our kind. So, what we’re going to do is split into team’s of two and really teach those asshats what archangels can do. Now, Rowena’s gotta die, obviously. But Metatron is the Scribe of God, and so Daddy might still be a little fond. Plus, he’s human now and infinitely easier to deal with. So—Sam and I will go after Rowena. I’m the experienced angel, and I’ll need his extra soul juice. Meanwhile, you and Cas will go after Metatron. A milk run, if you will. Easy peasy, I promise. God even located him for you. He’s hiding out here.” Gabriel walked to Dean and Cas, placed a forefinger on both their foreheads, and transmitted the location to the exact inch. “Now, we got our jobs? Right, meet back here when done.”  


  
With that, Gabriel walked to Sam, put a hand on his shoulder, and they both vanished in a flutter of wings. Dean looked at Cas.  


  
“Alright, what’s the plan when we get to Metatron?” Dean asked. “I say we veto God’s wishes, and kill him.”  


  
Cas sighed. “I would very much like to, but Gabriel’s right. God might want him alive, fondness aside.”  


  
Dean groaned. “I hate that guy. Fine. Alive it is. So, get Metatron, get the tablets, and deliver him to Hannah?”  


  
Cas nodded. “Yes. Let’s go.”  


  
They both left and arrived at Metatron’s location at exactly the same time. Metatron was holed up in a little shack just north of the border into Canada. He was shivering, but whipped around when they entered. An angel blade slipped from his sleeve, but Dean melted it with just a look.  


  
“What the hell?” he voiced.  


  
“Hiya, Marve,” Dean said sarcastically and Metatron’s jaw dropped.  


  
“We’re here to get the tablet and take you back to jail,” Cas told him, and Metatron backed up against a wall.  


  
“How did you fly?” his voice was soft with fear.  


  
“God’s back, bitch,” Dean said. “And he gave us both a little present: we’re archangels. So, you have a choice. Give us the tablet, now, and come quietly—and I mean that literally. Or, I kill you. I’m new at this whole thing, it’d be an honest mistake. I’m sure good ol’ Daddy will understand.”  


  
Metatron was silent for a long moment, so Dean flew to an inch in front of his face. He formed his finger into the shape of a gun and tried to channel enough of the white hot energy into the tip as he could safely manage. He could feel it grow hot, and he brushed it barely against Metatron’s temple. Metatron cringed at the heat.  


  
“Simple choice: alive but in jail…or dead,” Dean murmured.  


  
“Okay!” Metatron breathed. “Alright.”  


  
His hands flew up into the air and he shut his mouth tight.  


  
Dean tried to delve into his mind then to find the location of the tablet, but Cas tapped him on the shoulder. Dean looked back and saw not only the Demon tablet in his hands, but two others.  


  
“There are three?” Dean asked, turning back to Metatron, who stayed obediently silent. Dean sighed heavily. “You can answer our direct questions.”  


  
“Yes,” he replied. “There are three: angels, demons, and humanity.”  


  
“There’s a humanity tablet?” Cas spoke then.  


  
“Yes,” Metatron replied.  


  
“What’s it say?” Dean inquired next.  


  
“Oh…you know…the usual. What God’s purpose for you was, the meaning of your lives, the path to immortality. The works.”  


  
Dean was silent for a long moment, then sighed heavily again. He turned his face to Cas. “I don’t suppose Chuck would let us keep the Humanity Tablet.”  


  
Cas frowned and shook his head. “Probably not.”  


  
Dean rolled his eyes. “Of course not. Well, better get this show on the road.”  


  
Cas nodded. Dean tugged Metatron along while Cas held the tablets. They took a step and were both at the playground. The two angels on duty jumped and looked wild-eyed at them.  


  
“Bring Hannah down immediately,” Cas ordered and the two guardian angels didn’t question for a second. The door opened in a flash of light, illuminating the spell, and a moment later, Hannah appeared, taking the form of one of the women angels that had guarded the gate.  


  
She didn’t look happy.  


  
“Finally righting your wrong, Castiel?” she asked immediately, but then paused. “You have…wings…and power. And so does your human! How is this possible?”  


  
“Our father,” Cas intoned. “We’ve got a war on our hands. Now, take Metatron to the jail, and take the tablets—keep them safe. I’m sure all the angels will be informed as soon as possible.”  


  
Hannah looked stunned and Dean tried to give her what he thought might be a reassuring smile; he didn’t do it very often, but he felt that maybe it conveyed what he meant it to. 

  
He could see her real form and it was bright, and tinged a sort of lavender.  


  
She was tight lipped for a long moment, before she nodded. “But please, Castiel. Please, tell us soon.”  


  
Cas nodded and Hannah took the tablets, while the other angel took Metatron’s arm from Dean. They vanished into the door, and two more angels replaced them as guardians. Dean looked to Cas, who nodded, and they both flashed back into the bunker.  


  
It was empty, and Dean immediately frowned. “They’re not back,” he claimed obviously. He walked up to the tables in the library and leaned against one, his forehead creased, eyebrows drawn deep over his luminescent green eyes.  


  
“No,” Cas confirmed.  


  
“Do you think they need help? Do you think Rowena is powerful enough to hurt them?” Dean asked. The same panic that filled his stomach and heart any time he knew or even thought Sam was in danger fluttered around impatiently.  


  
“Gabriel fought alongside our father in the first war,” Cas reassured. “I’m sure that they’re fine. Rowena is strong, but she’s also very naïve to the ways of angels. She didn’t even realize angels were real until she met me. She probably has based all her knowledge of the powers of angels off of me, which is good because I was weak when she met me. She won’t see them coming.”  


  
Dean still frowned. “So…you don’t think that we need to go help them?”  


  
Cas gave Dean a small smile. “Dean, let me teach you something. If you’re connected to another angel as you are to Sam, you can seek him out. Sort of like self projection. Witches can do it. Close your eyes, and focus on your and Sams’ bond. Then try to find his mind’s eye.”  


  
Dean frowned deeply at him, thinking that Cas’s instructions sounded like hippy trash, but he slowly closed his eyes. He thought of his baby brother, the danger he might be in, and he loosened his grip on his physical place on their plane of existence. Immediately, it was as if he could feel Sam, standing right next to him in the dark; he could feel a familiar sort of heat that he knew without a doubt was his brother. He probed nearer the heat and tried to focus on the visuals of it. Instantly, as if turning on a light switch, he could see through Sam’s perspective. They were fighting with Rowena; she was shooting spells and it looked like Gabriel and Sam were shooting pure light. They were certainly holding their own, and Rowena looked like a feral and cornered cat. Dean opened his eyes and was back in the bunker with a mental snap. He felt vaguely ill, as if the astral projection had drained him.  


  
“It has drained you,” Cas replied to his thought aloud and Dean frowned. “You’ve weakened yourself—most angels have to get more used to the universe around them before they try to project just their minds out into it. It makes sense that you’re a little exhausted. Another reason we should stay here and let your brother and Gabriel handle Rowena. If they need help, I’m sure they’ll call and we’ll be able to offer it.”  


  
Dean was silent and focused more on trying to block his mind. He could feel the tentative reach of Cas, and felt a little angry that Cas felt it necessary to snap Dean out of his mind, but had the nerve to try to probe his own.  


  
“I wasn’t expelling you from my mind,” Cas said. “I was just surprised when you felt me, is all.”  


  
“You’re taking advantage of my weakness and reading my mind,” Dean groaned. “Stop.”  


  
Immediately, he felt the presence gone. “Okay,” Cas said quietly. His voice seemed hurt and Dean sighed.  


  
“Look, it’s nothing personal,” Dean tried. “It’s just…the mind is a private place, you know? There’s darkness in me, and I’d prefer no one to really see it.”  


  
Cas looked at Dean with his wide blue eyes and Dean couldn’t help but stare back. He was mesmerizing. His physical form and his metaphysical form kept Dean from focusing for a long moment; it was Cas’s words that brought him back, though.  


  
“We’ve all got darkness in us, Dean,” he murmured, and walked over to Dean to lean against the table with him. Dean could feel the heat of his friend like lava next to him, but he didn’t move. “And there will never be a time when I’m convinced that you’re anything but good, inside and out.”  


  
Dean was surprised for a moment. “That’s exactly what Sammy said before I was going to kill him.”  


  
“You wouldn’t have killed him,” Cas said, as certain as Sam.  


  
“You guys keep saying that…but you can’t understand the…rage I felt,” Dean dropped into a seat and put his head in his hands. “It was…so strong. I had to physically make myself walk away from Sammy multiple times after Charlie. When we were burning her bones…I told him he should be up there instead of her.”  


  
“I’ve noticed that you Winchesters say things that you don’t mean quite a lot when you’re angry,” Cas said. “Or, perhaps, it’s not that you don’t mean it, it’s that you only mean it in anger.”  


  
“What are you talking about?” Dean sighed.  


  
“Well, when Sam said he wouldn’t do anything and everything to save your life like you would, he didn’t mean it,” Cas said. “Perhaps he meant it in that moment, I’m not sure, but obviously he didn’t mean it fully. This whole mess is proof of that. If I’ve learned one thing over my years with you boys, it’s that there is nothing stronger than your will to save one another.”  


  
“Yeah, we’re dumb that way,” Dean muttered.  


  
“Not dumb,” Cas replied. “Not dumb at all. It’s admirable. It’s the one thing that all your enemies always underestimate. Sure, they try to use your love against you, but they fail to see that your bond is not your ‘Achilles heel’, as you’ve said. It’s your strongest point. No matter what anyone throws at you, you will save your brother, and vice versa.”  


  
Dean was silent and then he looked up at Cas. “Thank you, Cas. For everything.”  


  
Cas gave him a warm smile and Dean stared up at him for a long moment. He didn’t even notice he was staring, but he couldn’t help himself. He would never get used to the way he saw Cas now—or any of the angels for that matter. But particularly Cas. Sure, Sammy was bright too, but that’s sort of always how Dean saw Sammy anyway. Gabriel and Chuck were mesmerizing in different ways, but Cas…well, it was not the first time Dean was captivated with the angel’s beauty, but it was the first time that he didn’t care if it was obvious.  


  
“Dean, you’re staring,” Cas said gruffly.  


  
Dean blinked and nodded, looking away in a twinge of embarrassment. “Yeah, well…this is the first time I’ve seen your true form. It’s…for lack of a better word, beautiful. It’s…fascinating to say the least.”  


  
Cas was surprised. Beautiful. Dean had just used the word beautiful. Dean had called him beautiful. He opened his mouth to reply when there was a flutter of wings and they both looked over to see Chuck, holding Charlie in his arms. He began walking in the direction of the bedrooms, and Dean jumped up immediately to follow, Cas close behind.  


  
“Alright, Dean,” Chuck said. “It seems you’re the best so far at grounding people, so go ahead and try with Charlie. She was a lot easier to change, because she was just a soul, with no physical form to try and manipulate. She’ll still be rather strong, and it’s still not a hundred percent guarantee that the soul is contained, but Sam seemed to work out pretty well, so I’d say we’re in the clear.”  


  
They walked into the bedroom that was usually Cas’s when he decided to stay and Chuck set her onto the bed. Dean sat next to her and she flinched at his heat. He tried his hardest to focus on his humanity, tried to suck some of the heat of the grace out of his fingertips and slowly placed them on her cheek. She flinched still, but not as hard had they been white hot. He could feel the raw emotions that rolled off her, could feel her pain. He was focusing very much and as quietly as he could, in Charlie’s head, he whispered, 

  
Hey, kiddo. She let out a low moan, so he went quieter. Charlie, he spoke to her. You’re powerful now, Charlie, so I need you to focus on me. Just me. Dean.  
At the mention of his own name, new emotions streamed out of Charlie’s head like a waterfall. Pain, still, but also hope. And a familiar emotion that he still couldn’t place. It was in the greatest abundance, and he focused on it, tried to decipher it.  


  
Dean…it was weak but she had replied, and he smiled down at her.  


  
Hey, kiddo, he replied. You’re going to need to open your eyes, but you’re going to have to be careful. Do you feel my hand on your cheek? Just focus on that.  


  
It took a few long moments until Charlie finally managed to nod. It was another few long moments before she opened one of her eyes a slit. She looked up at him and froze.  


  
“I know it’s overwhelming,” Dean murmured as quietly as he could manage. “But just, stay with me, Charlie.”  


  
He could still feel her emotions roiling, and the more she looked at him, the larger the unidentified emotion grew. He tried to focus in on it, focus in on the thoughts surrounding it, but he still couldn’t place it.  


  
It’s love, stupid, Charlie’s voice sounded in his head and he froze, oddly stunned. She slowly opened her eyes to see the look on his face, and instantly hers fell.  


  
“Oh, Dean,” she murmured and wrapped her arms around him gingerly. “I don’t understand how you can be that messed up in the head, not to recognize love. Of all things.”  


  
He felt like shushing her, like the other two in the room were listening in on a conversation that they shouldn’t be. But they were both celestial beings, so no matter where they were, they’d still probably hear it. He held her out at arms length, and gave her a small smile.  


  
“Never mind me, how are you?” he asked her.  


  
“That’s kind of your mantra, isn’t it? ‘Never mind me, let’s focus on you’.” She sighed, her eyes sad, but answered him. “Everything is bright. I can see…everything.”  


  
“I know, but you’re focusing on me,” Dean said. “So, that’s good.”  


  
“Yes, well, you’re…bright too,” Charlie murmured. “It’s not that hard to focus.”  


  
Dean smiled at her. “You’re brilliant, kiddo.”  


  
She smiled back, and thought, I know.  


  
He hugged her again and kissed the top of her head, before pulling back.  


  
“Alright, Chuck,” he turned to look at the scrawny God. “What now?”  


  
“I think I’ll help with Gabriel, he really must be rusty for it to be taking so long,” Chuck said. “You all can stay here, this won’t take long.”  


  
With that, he vanished and they all sat in a moment of silence.  


  
“So…God, huh?” Charlie said awkwardly and Dean snorted.  


  
“Chuck was…” Dean paused. “Well, I was going to say better, but then again, he published all the dirty secrets of our entire lives…so we weren’t exactly a fan.”  


  
“He was a good man,” Cas said and Dean shrugged.  


  
“So…God just jumped Chuck’s body? Why Chuck?” Charlie asked.  


  
“I don’t really know,” Dean said. “That wasn’t exactly my first question.”  


  
“Chuck was the current profit when Lucifer rose,” Cas said. “It is conceivable that he was the only one who could potentially hold God.”  


  
“Yeah, maybe,” Dean agreed.  


  
They were all silent for a long moment before Dean sighed. “Do I still have to eat? I mean, I have a soul and a human body still, right? Or does Grace get rid of stuff like that?”  


  
“You’ll be able to taste the molecules, but…I’m not sure; this is the first time a human has been an angel,” Cas said.  


  
“Well, I’m going to try,” Dean said, standing. “You want anything, Charlie?”  


  
“No…I’m, um, just going to stay here and try not to explode,” she gave him a small smile.  


  
He frowned at her. “Do you want Cas to stay with you?”  


  
“No, Dean, I’m good,” she said. “Really. I am just going to rest.”  


  
He gave her a long look, then nodded. “Alright.”  


  
He walked out and Cas followed.  


  
“Dean…” he began and Dean didn’t like the sound of his voice at all.  


  
“Yeah, Cas?” I asked warily. Cas paused for a long moment.  


  
“You…didn’t recognize…love?” he asked and Dean sighed.  


  
“Can we not dwell on that? I mean, I’m not accustomed to seeing emotions, so sue me.”  


  
“You understood fear, pain, hope. But you didn’t understand love,” Cas continued and Dean took in a slow, calming breath.  


  
“Yeah, what’s your point?” Dean demanded, feeling embarrassingly self conscious.  


  
“How can you not understand love? You have so many that love you, and you love many too,” Cas continued and Dean groaned.  


  
“Jesus, Cas, can we just drop it? I know what love is, I do love people, though I don’t think I’d say ‘many’. I love you, and Charlie, and Sammy. I get it, okay?” he grunted.  


  
“I know you get love…is it that you don’t understand when it’s directed at you?” Cas murmured and Dean turned to glare at him.  


  
“Shut the hell up, Cas. Now,” Dean said with finality.  


  
It was silent as they walked the rest of the way to the kitchen. Dean threw open the fridge and grabbed an apple. He chomped into it and then stopped immediately.  


  
“Oh, no,” he murmured, spitting it out into the trash. “It’s all…just…molecules.”  


  
Cas sighed. “I know, disappointing, isn’t it?”  


  
Dean glared at him, and Cas slowly realized just how much Dean liked food. Dean stalked over to a bottle of whiskey that sat on the counter. He took a swig and grimaced.  


  
“I really should’ve thought this decision out a little more,” Dean grumbled.  


  
All was silent for a long moment as Dean sulked in the fact that he wouldn’t be able to enjoy food for the foreseeable future.  


  
Finally, Cas sighed heavily. “I can’t seem to let this go.”  


  
“Let what go?” Dean’s tone was on the edge of threatening.  


  
“How can you not understand that people love you?” Cas continued in spite of this.  


  
“Cas, you really need to shut the fuck up,” Dean growled. “I’m not joking. This is not the time nor the place for this conversation. In fact, I’ll tell you the exact time and place for this conversation: never.”  


  
“Yeah, sure, get angry,” Cas said, stepping in front of Dean. “Get angry all you want, but people love you.”  


  
“That’s grand, are you done?” Dean felt the tips of his fingers become hot.  


  
“No, I’m not done! How can you not believe that?” Cas insisted.  


  
“How can I not? How can I believe that, at all? I’m poison, and no one seems to see that,” Dean finally yelled. “I don’t understand why you people insist on loving me. Apparently, that’s what started this entire mess in the first place. I get the ones I love killed. Charlie is testament to that. Kevin. Sammy, multiple times. You, multiple times. How can you love me if I’m so bad for you?”  


  
He pushed Cas out of the way and started into the library. But Cas followed.  


  
“Dean,” he called and grabbed his arm, turning him. Dean ripped it free, and put a hand on Cas’s chest to stop him from his pursuit.  


  
“Enough, Cas…” he said slowly, angrily and a little sadly. “Just…enough, okay?”  


  
“No,” Cas pressured. “No, it’ll never be enough. You ask, how can I love you? Well, easily.”  


  
And with that, he pushed Dean’s hand down, closed the space in between them, and shoved his mouth against Dean’s. Dean was completely frozen for a moment, but then Cas let down his wall on his emotion, and everything was bright and he felt everything Cas did, saw everything Cas did. Felt how Cas had loved him since the moment he gripped him tight and raised him from perdition. He saw how he had denied the feelings, then denied the existence of Dean’s feelings. He felt the ache inside Cas that had been ever present from that first moment, to be close to Dean. To love Dean. Even through all the bad, even through their fights, and everything, it was always there. He finally melted into the embrace in response, allowing his own block to slowly crumble as he threw his arms around the angel’s waist and pulled him closer. He allowed Cas to see the mirrored feelings of their time together.  


  
It took a long moment for them to pull apart and when they finally did, Cas rested his forehead against Dean’s.  


  
“I love you, Dean. And it’s the easiest choice I ever made.”  


  
“You waited six years to do that, you idiot?” Dean said airily. Cas leaned back and looked at his Dean.  


  
“So, did you,” he pointed out and Dean chuckled, all anger evaporated.  


  
“Yeah, well, I thought we just decided that was kind of my thing, the whole disbelieving of love deal,” he retorted, cupping the back of Cas’s neck and pulling him close so their lips barely brushed. “But…yeah, I guess I love you too.”  


  
Though Dean knew that there was a lot to go before this whole ordeal was over, he was happy. Happier than he had been going into other battles. And as he tousled his angel’s hair, he knew that they would not lose, and they would not die. A sliver of hope lightened Dean's newly angelic heart.


End file.
